The Bartender
by Vesna625
Summary: A story of how a girl becomes an apprentice to a bartender and meets a sailor she falls in love with... yada yada yada. Written for an Oblivion Mod. Rated for mention of violence and drinking.


Disclaimer: I don't own Oblivion or any of their trademark characters.

This was a story written for an Oblivion City Mod, Kelin Ineth. The first volume is supposed to be a hand-to-hand skill book. I can assure you this was not meant to be a cheesy romance novel, but it turned out that way.

**Bartender Volume I**

The Silver Serpent Pub did not by any account stand out from its neighboring buildings of old, rotten wood decorated with guano. The only feature that made it stand out from the other abodes was the weathered sign, depicting a snake-like sea serpent with swirling letters dancing across the top. The sign swung languidly in the salty sea-breeze, occasionally giving off the shrill cry of rusted hinges.

I met the bartender of the Silver Serpent here, on the pier in front of his pub. That day is still fresh in my memory. The waves had shattered softly against the rough rocks. The setting sun emblazed a golden trail across the water, seemingly leading to a faraway place. I remember sitting on the edge of the pier, wondering where that tantalizing path could lead. I let my small legs drape over the edge, occasionally tapping the tip of a golden-hued wave. The bottom of my skirt was thoroughly soaked, and stuck firmly to my ankles.

So engrossed in my thoughts was I, that I never noticed that he was standing next to me, cleaning a beer mug and watching the sunset as intently as I was. I knew him. Everyone in the city did. He was the Argonian bartender of the single tavern at the docks. He was truly a compassionate person, giving out not only drinks, but advice, and even a shoulder to cry on if needed.

Noticing my startled flinch, he looked down at me. His reptilian eyes inspected me closely, as if contemplating something deep inside.

"I know you," he stated blankly, "It is Hailie, yes?"

I slowly nodded, still watching the last of the rays of light submerge beneath the horizon. Why would he care enough to talk to a parentless Breton girl?

"If you don't have any previous commitments… would you care to become my apprentice?"

* * *

That is how I met As-Waves-Dance. He took me in, a street rat that had nowhere to go. In the first months I spent working with him, I learned much about bartending. I also ascertained much about As-Waves-Dance himself. The first and most notable attribute he exhibited was a superb memory. He knew exactly what beverage each regular at the bar usually ordered, as well as the recipes for multitudes of drinks.

The inside of the pub was a stark contrast to its outer shell. Rows and rows of different types of alcoholic beverages decorated one wall, including rare Fire Whiskey and Tamika wine imported from Cyrodiil. Apparently some of the sailors would bring gifts from their voyages oversea.

The table was kept clean, and the stools were covered with soft cloth. A cozy fire would be lighted in the fireplace on cold nights.

At first, the only jobs I took care of were cleaning the mugs and keeping track of what was sold and what needed to be bought. Slowly, though, as I learned the tricks of the trade, he allowed me to brew the beer and occasionally mix some of the more simple drinks.

However, I outright refused to deal with most of the patrons. This was mostly out of my fear of drunks, as their vulgar attempts at courting would leave me angry and embarrassed beyond measure.

* * *

One of the cardinal lessons I learned during the second year of my apprenticeship came not from my mentor. The day had concluded as usual. I had finished cleaning up after the patrons had left and locked the pub on my way out. I turned to walk home; a run-down shack overlooking the sea. Before I could get there, a pair of strong hands grabbed my arm and yanked me onto a moored ship nearby. The smell of beer was strong on my attacker, and it made me dizzy. The drunken man was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. I could only hear the blood pounding in my ears and the bit of common sense left in my head that kept telling me to scream, to fight, to do anything.

The pressure of rough fingers digging into my skin suddenly ceased. After I had recovered my wits, I opened my eyes. I didn't know what to expect, but I knew it surely wasn't what I saw.

The person in front of me was a Redguard. He was dressed in a simple sailor's garb, but the defined muscles were still plainly visible. Offering his hand to help me up, he pulled me up to stand on my feet. That wasn't the best idea at the time, as the shock and sudden vertigo caused me to faint. The last thing I can remember before my vision absolutely lost focus was falling.

I woke up confused. This was definitely not my house. Stained-glass windows let in colorful beams of light that brightened the small cabin and gave the wood a golden brown hue. The cabin was small, but cozy. A small table with various charts piled on top of it was in the center of the cabin. I was sitting in a bed placed on one side of the room. There was a desk and a cupboard on the other side.

I stood up shakily, for my legs were still stiff. But, after several seconds of adjusting, I realized that the entire cabin was shaking… no, not shaking. It was _rocking_. So I was on a ship.

Before I could get far, the door to the cabin opened, making me jump again. I didn't have to turn around, for I already guessed who it was.

"Ah, you're awake," an unmistakably Redguard voice stated. Yep, I guessed correctly.

"Where am I?" I asked, as I slowly turned around.

"On my ship. You fainted, so I put you here 'cause I didn't know where you lived, see?"

"Ah…" I was at loss for words.

"You really need to learn how to protect yourself. Especially if you work as a barmaid," he said. That statement caught me off guard.

"How do you know…"

"Where you work? If you pay attention to the patrons, you may notice a few things."

I didn't say anything. I just stood there with a stunned look on my face. He must have felt that what he said was a little harsh, so he muttered an apology and led me outside.

"Look, if you ever need to defend yourself, a backfist to the temple will knock out most people. See?" he demonstrated, using the mast of the ship as a punching dummy. "Here, you try."

Needless to say, I felt ridiculous. The next hour was spent learning punches and self-defense moves. He would constantly correct me, telling me to either straighten out my wrist or twist my foot so that I put more body weight into the punch (not like I weighed much anyway). Within minutes, the top two knuckles of both of my hands were red. By the end of the hour, my arms hurt as well.

He decided to walk me to the bar, even after all of my protests. I tried sulking on the way, but I had to laugh when a seagull landed on his head. The Redguard just yelled and tried to swat the gull away. The seagull kept pestering him until we reached the bar, at which the bird gave him one last bite on the head and flew away.

As-Waves-Dance greeted the Redguard, and told me to fetch several oranges from the cellar. When I came back, the captain was already gone, but As-Waves-Dance looked very pleased about something. I placed the oranges on the counter, and asked something that I never thought I'd want to do. I cleared my throat hesitantly. My mentor turned around to see what I wanted.

"Sir… can I help with the customers today?" I asked in a quiet voice. As-Waves-Dance nodded.

"What has made you change your mind all of a sudden?" he finally inquired, after several minutes of silence.

"Oh, nothing," I replied, trying to sound casual. Yet, for some reason, I felt that As-Waves-Dance was smirking in that reptilian way of his.

* * *

Edited the version a tad.


End file.
